


Good Girl

by TheEvangelion



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: BDSM, CNC roleplay, Comfort, Domestic Slave, F/F, Fisting, Lena Needs Love, Mistress, Mistress Kara, Mistress Kara Danvers, Mistress/slave, Non-Con Roleplay, Praise Kink, Recovery, Service Kink, Service Submission, Sub Lena Luthor, Vaginal Fisting, collaring, domestic pet, good girl, lesbian bdsm, protocol, slave lena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25078798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvangelion/pseuds/TheEvangelion
Summary: Prompt: the first time Lena cums after Kara calls her a good girl. (Mistress/slave and a little non-con roleplay too)AKA: the rules of engagement with Mistress Kara were simple and rigid: to do precisely as she was told, nothing more and certainly never anything less. Lena was a slave, but that did not mean Mistress Kara did not want to be gentle sometimes too.
Relationships: Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 24
Kudos: 576





	Good Girl

The world as Lena knew it stopped as soon as she walked into Mistress Kara’s apartment. Her life could suddenly no longer be measured in the moments between boardrooms and battlegrounds. There was no glory, no control, not even the vaguest of decisions that Lena was allowed to make of her own volition. The rules of engagement with Mistress Kara were simple and rigid: to do precisely as she was told, nothing more and certainly never anything less. 

Lena stepped across the threshold of the home and transfigured from the big boss, ruthless executive, decision-making final word of all things... into a polite and subservient little slave. The chrysalis was sudden and absolute.

Lena had arrived fifteen minutes before Mistress Kara finished work just as instructed with the spare key she had been given. Her apartment was lived in and clean, perhaps even a little bare. There was something lovely about the raw wooden floors and exposed brickwork, how the open spaces seemed to knit themselves together with strewn rugs and reclaimed furniture that Mistress Kara had put plenty of love back into. 

Framed art and band posters leaned propped against the walls all over the place, dusty and permanent despite not being hung. It was… pleasantly bohemian. The home was feminine and welcoming. Lena inhaled the apartment into her lungs and tasted the faintest hint of bergamot on the back of her tongue. It made her smile.

The first thing to do was always light the candles and dim the lamps. Lena slipped mindlessly into her role and made the apartment different shades of incandescent amber. Then, she went to the guest bedroom. The expensive navy suit and lacy underwear beneath were removed piece by piece until she was completely bare. Lena meticulously folded each item neatly away out of sight, and then placed her Louboutin heels back on. 

The high heels had been specifically requested in Mistress Kara’s morning instructions, along with a red ribbon bowed neatly around her neck in a pristine layer-style tie. These were the only items permitted to be worn in Mistress Kara’s presence. The red ribbon served as a temporary consideration collar while Mistress Kara decided whether the real thing—a black leather collar with Mistress’s name engraved on the tag—was to be given in due course. Lena hoped it would happen any day, they had been courting one another in consideration for some six months. 

After she prepared herself in accordance with the precise instructions, Lena caught a glimpse of her slender pale body in the mirror and instantly saw the attraction. It was as though she were seeing herself anew, or just through somebody’s else’s eyes at least. Lena didn’t look powerful or important at all anymore, therein was half the excitement. Frankly, she looked like a little slut. It was amusing and arousing, all at once. A well behaved slave stared back in the mirror’s reflection, pretty and precise in all the ways that Mistress Kara cared for — and then tied in a pretty red ribbon to boot.

It was a funny term, slave. The implication was both severe and profoundly unsexual. She was not a baby girl, not a bunny, not a brat or anything else that could denote some kind of pure play dynamic. To be a slave was a completely different kettle of fish all together, one that was a complete lifestyle of subjugation rather than a sexual dynamic. 

It was servitude, ownership, rigorous protocol. It was to never assume Mistress Kara’s needs and _only_ concern herself with executing her potential owner’s expressed wishes to the absolute letter. That was the agreement, one that Lena had made abundantly clear to Mistress Kara from the very beginning in terms of what she was willing to offer. It was peaceful, fulfilling, and mind-numbingly arousing in moments too. Mistress Kara was both gentle and stern, sweet and unyielding, rigid but never cruel, and being in her service was a wonderfully ironic sense of freedom.

Lena checked the time and began to rush, she had five minutes until Mistress Kara arrived home from work and the realisation hurried her through the final preparations. She boiled and steeped a pot of green tea, plumped the pillows on the sofa, kneeled in the correct position in the corner of the room and… waited. That was the last instruction she had been given this morning, to be kneeling in the correct position at fifteen minutes after six and wait there until told otherwise. 

Privately, Lena understood that of course she could get up if she wanted to. She could go to the bathroom without Mistress Kara’s permission. She could do all manner of other things that would be contradictory to Mistress Kara’s plain and simple instructions. But Lena stayed put in the corner of the room and squared her arms behind her spine, and for five minutes despite the urges to check her work emails, she held position. Ten minutes passed, and despite the instinctive reaction to grab her incessantly buzzing phone from her purse in the other room, she held position. 

Her responsibilities to the outside world melted away like morning snow until all she was left with was Mistress Kara’s simple expectations. Kneel, and do not move until told otherwise. When Mistress Kara finally arrived home twelve minutes after Lena positioned herself as instructed, she remained exactly as she was despite the tingling kneecaps and lack of acknowledgements all together from Mistress Kara.

Truth be told, Lena liked the absence of greeting. It forced her to engage with Mistress Kara’s presence in a far more abstract and visceral fashion. Lena breathed and closed her eyes, she could hear Mistress Kara unwinding on a moment to moment basis at the door. The coat hung on the hook, keys then clattered into the dish, a long deep sigh and a thud of shoes kicked off somewhere near the rack as she went through her own internal processes of disconnecting from the world outside. 

Lena imagined her cheeks pink from the chill. Her fingers numb and itching for a hot—but not too hot—cup of green tea. Lena also couldn’t help but imagine a tiny smile, growing faintly more pleased as Mistress Kara appraised and inspected the impeccable service she had been given. Lena had read the morning list a dozen times, she made sure to get everything _just_ right.

“Lena?” Mistress Kara spoke up from the kitchen island.

“Yes Mistress Kara?” Lena cleared her throat and made sure not to move a muscle.

Bare feet padded closer across the wood without the slightest sense of urgency. Lena watched the shadow on the wall in front of her grow bigger until Mistress Kara was so close the sturdiness of her body could almost be felt against Lena’s spine. Mistress Kara stopped there wordlessly, the scalding heat of her stare burning into Lena’s pale bare skin. Still, Lena held position. Still, Lena waited patiently.

“Are you kneeling in my presence with dirty shoes pointed towards me?” Mistress Kara’s tone was calm and observatory. “There is a leaf stuck to the bottom of your worn red soles. I find that incredibly sloppy and disrespectful… to say the absolute _fucking_ redacted version of my complaints about it,” her voice dropped to a manacled whisper.

Lena clenched her eyes shut and felt a black hole open up within her chest. It devoured every tiny notion of accomplishment she had awarded herself and left nothing but embarrassment and dread in the wake. Mistress Kara said no more, did not move a single muscle, she simply towered there with her mug of green tea and an expression that Lena could not yet see but feared the worst about.

“I… I’m so sorry, Mistress Kara, I didn’t realise. I had no idea—”

“Take off your filthy shoes and place them with the rest of your things out of my _fucking_ sight,” Mistress Kara growled. “In future, you will make sure you are pristine when you are in my presence.”

“Yes Mistress Kara!” Lena instantly hurried as fast as she could.

Inside the guest bedroom where her other things were neatly placed away, Lena took a moment to breathe deeply and punish herself. How the hell she forgot to thoroughly clean her shoes… it was utterly incomprehensible. It was one of the seldom few things that went without saying. Mistress Kara was completely correct. It was up there with the highest disrespects imaginable — maybe only on par with burning an upside down flag on the steps of the Capitol. Oh, she was going to be in for it alright. That much was _certain_.

Lena inhaled and imagined all kinds of brutal punishment she might be subjected to. That was how her previous relationship informed her notions of proceedings to come. Andrea… she would have drawn blood and bruised bone. Punishments had not yet been discussed in their entirety with Mistress Kara given that they were still in the consideration stage with one another but Lena did not dare put anything past her. Lena was indeliberate in her digression, but she was not a fool. A slave was punished however its Mistress saw fit.

When Lena mustered the courage to step back out into the living room, she wasn’t entirely sure of what she was expecting. It definitely wasn’t Mistress Kara curled on the sofa, calmly blowing on her tea with a book in her hand. She looked… utterly serene. In Lena’s mind, it was antithetical of who and what a Mistress was supposed to be. Mistress Kara was sitting with her knees tucked under her body, the large grey sweater pushed up around her forearms, reading glasses almost hanging off the edge of her nose. Lena didn’t understand how one woman could be so homely and yet in such excess of dominance, all at once.

Lena placed her hands behind her back and stared at the floor, patiently waiting for acknowledgement rather than announcing herself. It proved to be an abstractly meditative way to reacclimate, Lena thought. The throttling sense of nervousness receded as minutes passed by. Mistress Kara was not infuriated or plotting sadistic punishments, she was simply drinking her green tea and finishing her chapter.

“Now Lena,” Mistress Kara exhaled eventually and placed her empty mug down, never looking away from her book. “If I inspect you again, am I going to find anything less than perfection?”

“No Mistress Kara,” Lena shook her head.

“Let’s attempt this again then. Step forward.” A slender finger beckoned and pointed to the rug.

Lena moved and stood in front of her slight mistress with poise and humility. She pulled her shoulders back, kept her hands just so behind her spine, inhaled a deep breath that straightened her body, and made damn sure to train her emerald eyes at Mistress Kara’s feet. Eye-contact protocol, she had finally gotten the hang of it without correction. If only Andrea could see her now.

“Good,” Mistress Kara beamed happily. “What a pretty little thing… that’s it.” Fingers still warm from holding the tea tilted Lena’s chin down further, then lightly touched and examined the red ribbon bow around her neck. “Keep your eyes where they’re supposed to be. Good. That’s very good. Your layer bow is acceptable, I can see you’ve practiced.” Mistress Kara seemed most pleased.

“Three times every night before bed just like you asked, Ma’am,” Lena confirmed.

When fingers moved gently over her nipples and breasts, Lena knew better than to assume it was ever for her pleasure or arousal. She was being inspected, like a little show animal, looked upon lovingly but never with intention. Mistress Kara examined with her hands, tilting her, touching her, nothing more and nothing less.

She relaxed into Mistress Kara’s touch, the soft fingers tracing idly over her stiffened nipples and then down the side of her ribs. Mistress Kara smiled, her eyes briefly glancing at the neat triangle of pubic hair between her legs. They would come back to it, Lena knew as much.

“Dirty shoes in my home... pointed directly at me no less.” Mistress Kara huffed mirthlessly, blue eyes instantly narrowed with displeasure. “I would expect that kind of faux pas from a bratty little inexperienced cunt who stumbled into the wrong party, certainly not a slave of your calibre.”

“I’m so sorry, Mistress Kara,” Lena whispered sincerely.

“What good are your apologies to me?”

“Less than nothing, Mistress Kara.”

“What is the only thing I care about?”

“Perfect execution on the first try, Mistress Kara.” Lena exhaled like a scalded child.

“There will be no corporal punishment today. Do it again, however, and I will string you up by your cunt and cane stripes into your bare feet.” She glowered.

Mistress Kara was utterly serious but somehow… totally calm and self-assured in the way she spoke. It was as though punishment in this instance was beneath her station, so unnecessary that to engage in it was more effort than what it was worth. Lena didn’t know whether to be pleased or horrified. Pleased that Mistress Kara understood it was a total accident that would never happen again and therefore did not merit severe punishment, or horrified in case Mistress Kara thought she wasn’t worth the effort in the first place. 

The confusion was perhaps one of the ways Lena distinguished herself differently from other bottoms. A brat dared punishment, a submissive fearfully respected it, and a slave feared the absence of it all together. Lena wanted to serve so well that she was worth the effort of proper training. That was the standard she held herself against, to be worthy of a huge reckoning of attitude adjustment if one was ever due.

“I will serve you better next time, Mistress Kara. I’ll make sure to be pristine the way you expect, Ma’am.” Lena bowed her head and allowed herself to simply be relieved that today was not the day she would learn how well Mistress Kara wielded a cane when displeased.

“Oh, you will learn, and you _will_ do better next time.” Mistress Kara made it clear. “Go and get the boot polish from under the sink, a soft bristled brush, a cloth, and a tin of wax. I have a pair of scuffed leather boots on the rack, fetch them and get an old towel from the cupboard. Now.” Mistress Kara sent her scuttling with the flick of a finger.

It wasn’t a punishment. At least it didn’t feel that way after an hour. Instead, it felt like productive training, an opportunity to learn and serve Mistress Kara far better than she had demonstrated earlier. It was also, privately, a generous indulgence of Mistress Kara’s time and attention. Lena stayed silent about the quaint and wholesome pleasure of it.

“You want to make sure you always condition the wax into the leather with your hands.” Mistress Kara peered down from the sofa while her pristinely cleaned boots were hand massaged. “There you go, that’s it. Rub the wax between your hands until your body heat melts it properly, massage it in, a bit too much is better than not enough. The first thing I _always_ notice is messy shoes, Lena.”

Lena followed her instructions precisely and rubbed the oil into Mistress Kara’s boots by hand. It was strangely satisfying, she had taken a dirty scuffed pair of boots and made them shine and gleam. If anyone ever caught wind that this was what she was reduced to behind closed doors… stock prices would fall out of the sky. Lena Luthor, CEO of L-Corp, cleaning and polishing boots on her knees like an indentured little whore. Mistress Kara didn’t care for that turmoil, she was wholly satisfied with the efforts. Lena placed that high on her list of achievements. Real world or otherwise.

“Yes, that will do for tonight.” Mistress Kara leaned down and inspected the work, tight-lipped on affirmations. “Go and put everything away and wash yourself up. If you need to use the bathroom, do that now too. Be back here in the next ten minutes, we’re going to talk more on your previous experience.”

Fuck, there it was. Lena hated that part. It was perhaps the only facet of spending time with Mistress Kara that wasn’t wholly enjoyed. Mistress Kara asked painstakingly exact questions that had to be met with painstakingly thorough answers, anything less was punished with the removal of spoken privileges. For the rest of the evening, she would serve Mistress Kara with total restrictions on her speech. Yes Ma’am, no Ma’am, please and thank you. That was all she was permitted to utter.

Truth be told, Lena wouldn’t mind as much if she was just allowed to say Mistress Kara on the end instead of Ma’am exclusively. When Mistress Kara forbade the utterance of her name, Lena grieved and craved for it to be given back above all other restrictions. To say Mistress Kara’s name was something deeply personal and intimate, it was an emotional kind of relief. When she was only allowed to say the word Ma’am, the specialness and sense of safety that came with being in her presence was almost lost. _Almost_ , but never entirely.

Lena put everything away and cleaned herself up, and she decided no matter how thorough the questions were she would answer with a sense of exactness. Lena felt safe, or maybe just peaceful, and she didn’t want the feeling to go away.

“Nine minutes and forty seconds. You were cutting it close, my girl.” Mistress Kara smiled slightly and nodded at the clock on the side table. “Come and sit yourself down.”

A new slave would perhaps misunderstand the instruction and dare to sit themselves on the sofa beside Mistress Kara, but Lena knew much better than to do that. 

A slave and its Mistress were never peers. A slave did not sit on the furniture in the presence of its Mistress, although sometimes the slave could perform the function of furniture to be sat upon which was a funny little irony. Unless explicitly instructed or in a social situation where the contrary would be inappropriate, a slave did not so much as eat or drink in the same room either. A slave did not initiate eye-contact. A slave did not position itself in any fashion that indicated equal stature, _ever_. Lena knew better and acted accordingly.

She sat on the floor directly in front of Mistress Kara’s feet and pulled her knees up to her chest. Protocol aside, it was at Mistress Kara’s feet that she _wanted_ to be seated. These procedures elevated Mistress Kara’s station, undoubtedly. But most of all, to Lena, they were little dependable moments of safety. 

She was sat in the presence of a valkyrie after all, looked upon with favour and tenderness, and to be tiny and without self-importance was total freedom. Lena didn’t need to sit on the sofa or eat at the table with a goddess to measure her worth, she was not that arrogant.

“You will respond to my questions with a sense of frankness that I know comes unnaturally for you. I expect you to communicate with me in a fashion that would be more appropriate for a submissive and her Ma’am. You are permitted to use a lesser form of deference protocol if you would like—”

“I can’t use your first name on its own, Mistress Kara, I don’t want us to drop deference,” Lena blurted and then realised she had spoken before being invited. She blushed crimson. “I’m sorry, I should have waited until I knew you were finished speaking Ma’am before I inter—”

“Stop speaking, Lena.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Mistress Kara paused, she hesitated for a moment and then tapered into a sloping smile as though she were slightly sad. She was so beautiful, her plump lips nibbled between her teeth. When she leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of Lena’s head, the scent of bergamot perfume getting all in her nose, it caught her heart in such a clutch that her body felt as though it might system reboot right there in the living room. Mistress Kara had kissed the top of her head and cupped her cheek, and there was no greater symptom of affection that could be offered.

“You can use high-protocol deference if you wish,” Mistress Kara said with a sense of amusement in her voice. “I love how respectfully you behave but I wish—” Mistress Kara stopped abruptly, as though there were a double-edge to the compliment that she had now thought better of. 

Lena wished she would reconsider, though she would never dream of suggesting such a thing. It was her duty to execute Mistress Kara’s wishes, and she could not do that if she did not know them.

“Tell me a time Andrea did something you now consider to be unacceptable.” Mistress Kara leaned into the side of the sofa and propped her chin on her hand, and Lena was grateful that Mistress Kara did not denote any kind of significance on Andrea’s name.

The response was still instinctive. “Ma’am, a slave doesn’t not have—”

“If you finish that sentence you will find yourself on the wrong side of me, my girl. If you’re telling me you don’t know your limits then I am damn well prepared to teach them to you the hard way around.” Mistress Kara’s gentle blue eyes instantly became severe.

“But a slave isn’t supposed to have limits—”

“Don’t you dare contradict me. If a slave is anything, it should be wise enough to know when to shut her fucking mouth and listen to what is being asked of her. A slave is many things, in my home she is obedient and capable of asserting sexual boundaries.” Mistress Kara darkened. “Go and get the whip from my bedroom if you disagree. I’ll soon change your mind about that, you precocious little cunt.”

Lena smiled, and if that was the wrong thing to do then Mistress Kara certainly did not say otherwise. Perhaps it was another way that she distinguished her identity, Lena thought. A submissive… they often found security in overt kindnesses, soft gestures, the earning and savouring of grace and favour. That was not what Lena wanted. What Lena wanted was the exact opposite.

Lena wanted to be met with ruthless consistency regardless of her own emotional inner workings. She wanted Mistress Kara to be the sturdy dependable creature she always was, never pitying, never breaking face, never treating her like anything other than a little pet rarely worthy of overt kindness — and that was the exact and sole thing that she was signing up to be. In that regard, they deeply respected protocol and they deeply respected one another because of the fact. It wasn’t sweet nothings, Lena wanted anything but.

“Breaking skin constantly.” Lena blinked and gave in, her tone changing slightly as though Mistress Kara were now a confessional alter in and of herself. “I now consider that unacceptable, Mistress Kara. If I made a mistake, if I broke protocol, the beatings would always draw blood regardless of how little the transgression.”

“Tell me more,” Mistress Kara pushed.

“Dropping protocol too.” Lena cleared her throat. “I cannot be a slave and a girlfriend. Mistress wanted—” She stopped and closed her eyes, uncomfortable on every level and unable to express herself articulately. “ _Andrea_ wanted me to be her girlfriend some days and her slave on others. She would take my collar away and expect me to suddenly stop being… me. It meant that communication and stable boundaries were...”

“Toxic and non-existant.” Mistress Kara nodded. “You understand it’s not appropriate for a slave collar to be given and taken away at whim, correct? Once you’re owned by a Mistress…” She came undone, as though it were pointless to state the obvious.

“I could never wear one in public Mistress Kara,” Lena said and suddenly thought about the world outside, and the thoughts felt totally foreign and unwelcome to her current headspace. “Nobody could ever see me in a collar, it would—it would have grave consequences.” Lena suddenly didn’t know where to look.

“That isn’t what I’m insinuating and I would assume even a pretty little fool like you could grasp that.” Mistress Kara leaned back into the sofa and rubbed her knee. “I’m saying a slave collar is not a thing to be given and taken away as a form of punishment by a Mistress,” she added much more softly.

“Yes Mistress Kara, I know that.” Lena cleared the throbbing feeling in her throat with a cough.

“Would you like to put your head on my knee?”

Lena paused uncomfortably.

Mistress Kara smiled. “You can say no thank you, pet. I am not ordering you to put your head on my knee, just offering.”

“No thank you, Mistress Kara. Can I afterwards when we’re not talking about her?” Lena simply wanted to keep that indulgence pristine and untouched.

“Yes, you may. Are there other things that happened that you don’t want to happen again? I am ordering you to tell me if there are.”

“What if I say something that you require from a slave?”

“Then we are not the right people for each other, and that will be a sad and necessary realisation to have sooner rather than later.” Mistress Kara shrugged. “Now, do as you’re told. I will not repeat myself again, I’m growing tired with you already.”

Despite her worries, Lena let Mistress Kara have it all. Being forced to go to dungeon parties as a slave that she didn’t want to attend. Having her poetry books taken away as a form of restriction. The word pig. The act of having the insides of her thighs grabbed in beratement. Lena ran through all of it, brief but precise on what she could recall. Threats of pictures being posted publicly. Oh, and not being allowed time to herself. Lena made sure to make that absolutely clear. Saturdays and Sundays were days of rest, even for pretty little overachieving slaves like herself.

“Is there anything else?” Mistress Kara asked calmly in the wake of the long list she had been given.

“Cooking fish, I hate the smell,” Lena said.

“If I tell you to braise salmon then I suggest you get yourself a pair of nose plugs because you will do as you’re told in this house when it comes to domestic service,” Mistress Kara made herself clear with a sense of sternness to her otherwise soft voice. “Although the other things, to be clear, are not troubling for me in the slightest. I have a very good memory. Nobody is going to call you a pig or take your poetry away, I promise,” she reassured.

“I’ll be good and do as I’m instructed to do, Mistress Kara,” Lena promised and suddenly didn’t mind the thought of seafood anymore when it was Mistress Kara it was being prepared for.

“What kinds of sexual games have you enjoyed in the past?” Mistress Kara didn’t give much consideration to the whiplash she had just delivered. “Ah ah! No. You get those big green eyes back down where they belong.” She finally noticed the doe eyed stare locking right with her own.

“Yes Mistress Kara,” Lena simpered and focused on the crossed knees in front of her, biting a grin and trying her hardest to be modest. “Sorry, Ma’am, I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t forget yourself, little girl.” Mistress Kara’s voice was a low, throaty murmur. “Tell me what filthy whorish things you like and mind your station while you do. Goodness, anyone might mistake you for a brat.”

“Perish the thought, Mistress Kara. But... what if I said something too dirty?”

“You won’t,” Mistress Kara said instantly.

“I like fisting training, Mistress Kara.” Lena inhaled and held onto it for a moment, aware that it would be a mistake to assume any arousal on her part would be welcomed without invitation. “I haven’t… I haven’t got all the way before but I like being restrained and subjected to it. I like the thought of wearing a chastity belt and being under lock and key. I like being denied gratification. I like… some other stuff.”

“Some other stuff?” Mistress Kara looked amused.

“I want to be fucked whenever you decide, Mistress Kara, anywhere and anyway you decide, and I want…” Lena stopped and didn’t know how to say it eloquently. “I want to be allowed to say no, Mistress Kara.”

“You can always say no, Lena. Owned slaves are always allowed to say no when they want sex to stop… they just can’t say no to braising salmon, in my home at least.” Mistress Kara looked at her as though she were stupid for ever doubting it.

“That isn’t what I was insinuating, Ma’am.”

“Then what are you insinuating?”

“To be clear… I mean…” Lena stalled and felt embarrassed. “I mean if I said no but… didn’t actually want no to mean no. If I said no and you kept fucking me anyway… when you initiate and want to fuck me, of course.” She blinked rapidly and made less and less sense.

They had been intimate before, in very specific and manacled ways that were never about anything more than Mistress Kara’s direct pleasure. Lena knew what Mistress Kara’s bed sheets felt like on her bare skin, she knew the way she tasted, the way her slender thighs grew tight and her cunt throbbed when Lena provided sexual service for her. 

She knew what it was like to kneel while Mistress Kara hiked up her dress and instructed in eye-watering detail exactly how her asshole should be licked and kissed and eaten. She even knew what it was like to have Mistress Kara push fingers inside of her wet cunt and comment explicitly on how her insides felt before withdrawing and resuming whatever she had otherwise been doing.

There were things Lena would never know; she would never experience Mistress Kara lick and suck her cunt while she bucked and writhed beneath her. That was not the purpose or intention of a Mistress, and it was certainly not the spoils of a slave. Though, a slave could dream.

Lena was unresentful about it. A submissive and their needs were equal to that of a dominant. The sexual pleasure of a slave was inconsequential to even the slave itself. Still, the thought of Mistress Kara doing unspeakably delicious things to her while she begged for mercy that would earn no reprieve… that felt like something she deeply wanted to know. Something that just, maybe, Mistress Kara would give her one day. It made her cunt ache and her insides grow tight.

“Open your legs, Lena, you’re looking very flustered all of a sudden.” Mistress Kara stared down with a wicked look. “Spread your cunt lips, hold them apart, do not touch yourself in any other manner.”

Shakily, Lena opened her thighs and spread her labia with two fingers. She was slick and Mistress Kara could see that for herself. Mistress Kara leaned back and said nothing for a moment, as though she were disinterested and unconcerned by the spread little whore at her feet. The act of being naked and spread would never not be anything less than humiliating, but Lena blushed and held position regardless.

“What would you say instead of no if you wanted something I was doing to stop?”

“Red, Mistress Kara.” Lena felt her cunt ache.

“If I tied you up and held you down and forced every inch of my fist inside of your cunt while you huffed and cried?” Mistress Kara leaned down and tilted Lena’s chin up with her fingers to meet her stare. “You can look me in the eyes, for now.”

“That specific example?” Lena swallowed hard and lost herself in the gorgeous blue eyes gleaning her in. “I would say no and mean something else entirely, Mistress Kara.”

“Are you sure?” Mistress Kara lifted her hand for examination and then closed it into a fist. “I don’t have little hands. If I shoved you down right now and pinned you by your throat and forced my fingers in your trembling little cunt all at once, you’re sure you wouldn’t say red?” She smirked.

“I exist to serve and submit to you, Mistress Kara, and if I wanted you to stop I would say red… and you would then stop, I know that, I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” Lena knew it with great certainty. “But I wouldn’t say red, Ma’am. I would say no and mean thank you.”

“You wouldn’t say red?” Mistress Kara reached down and pinched her clit out of nowhere. “I could force your cunt full, right here, right now, stuff you to the hilt until you sobbed and you wouldn’t say red?” She pinched the little bud between her fingers harder. “A lesser Mistress might call you a filthy disgusting cunt for that, girl.”

Green eyes snapped open, a gasp choking on itself as her clit was squeezed and rubbed viciously between Mistress Kara’s thumb and finger. She wept, mouth hung open, huffing and nodding her head.

“Look at the state of you,” Mistress Kara lightly scalded and brought her webbed fingers up to Lena’s face. “Suck them clean, right now.” She pushed them inside her hung mouth.

Lena did exactly as she was told.

“What else could I do to that little cunt of yours that you wouldn’t say red to?” Mistress Kara raised a brow and unbuckled her jeans, kicking them off down her legs.

“Slap it, grab it, you could hurt it, you could make me go to work with all kinds of things stuffed inside of me, anything you want, Ma’am.” Lena moaned slightly as Mistress Kara grabbed her cunt and squeezed it hard.

“I could make you cum again and again until you were so sensitive it takes nothing more than a little stroke of your clit to make you squeal?” Mistress Kara kissed her nose, then pressed her thumb into her clit hard. “I bet you would like that wouldn’t you, pretty girl? What other things would you want me to do for the purposes of your pleasure?”

Lena puffed and nodded frantically. “I exist to serve you, my body belongs to you to do whatever you wish. A slave’s only pleasure is satisfying her Mistress.”

Mistress Kara smiled and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply then pulling away all together from the desperate little slave bucking beneath her touch.

“This was a fun thought experiment, wasn’t it?” she said and sat herself back on the sofa. “Come here, let’s give you something productive to do with that slutty little mouth. You’re going to service me, and afterwards you will put your head on my lap for the rest of the evening while I read.” She took her panties down and spread her legs.

“Yes Mistress Kara,” Lena gathered herself up and calmed herself down. “Thank you, Mistress Kara,” she whispered and put her cravings for relief aside begrudgingly.

***

The first thing to do was _always_ light the candles and dim the lamps to an appropriate ambience. 

Lena let herself into the apartment and looked at the time, she was three minutes early and that gave her some leeway when it came to checking herself over much more meticulously than usual. 

Mistress Kara always found something slightly out of place or not quite done to standard, though she never really punished Lena for it. Instead, it simply became a gateway to one enrichment activity or another in which Mistress Kara would teach her a new kind of service. Lena couldn’t remember what it was like to feel nervous or scared about little mistakes anymore, Mistress Kara’s bark was far worse than her bite. Lena suspected she just rather enjoyed the teaching moments.

In the guest bedroom, her suit was tucked away, underwear removed and placed back in her bag. Lena retrieved a cleaned pair of Louboutins pristine in their dust bag and switched them with the ones she had worn today, inspecting the red bottoms carefully for even the slightest bit of dust before she placed them on. It had been a month since she had made that mistake, it was one she intended on never doing again. 

The layer-tie ribbon was bowed around her neck in a matter of seconds, she had developed quite the muscle memory for it. Mistress Kara never had complaints about her consideration collar, and Lena felt proud about that. She examined herself in the mirror, pleased with her appearance and okay with the idea of something not being perfect. Mistress Kara would teach her to be better, the thought was welcomed wholly.

A shadow caught her attention.

“Fuck!” Lena screamed and grabbed her chest as she caught sight of an intruder in the reflection.

“Easy, little girl.” Mistress Kara raised her hands to calm her nerves. “I worked from home today. I was waiting for you to notice me writing at the table while you went around the living room dimming all of my good light.” She smiled and pushed her sweater up her arms.

“Apologies, Mistress Kara.” Lena stared obediently at her feet and squared her arms behind her spine. “I… I must have slipped into cruise-control. I didn’t mean to be a nuisance, I’ll be better next time.”

“It’s okay, I gave you instructions and you followed them. I have no complaints.”

“Thank you, Mistress Kara,” Lena sighed slightly. “Would you like me to prepare dinner or give you some time if you’re in the middle of writing an article?”

“Don’t let me get in your way, you go ahead and prepare dinner. I’ll inspect you when I’ve finished the section I’m on.”

“Yes Mistress Kara,” Lena bowed her head.

In the kitchen, Lena was neither a whirlwind or an enthusiastic cook. Mistress Kara never expected much in terms of culinary prowess, and it never took more than half an hour to season the chicken and blacken the char. When she dished the food, poured the wine, and gave the cutlery a quick polish, the writer at the table finally began to stir back into the world of the living. The laptop lid was closed, and Mistress Kara shuffled into the kitchen and appraised her dinner.

“My favourite. Did you clean everything away?” She glanced sideways at her little service slave.

“Not yet, Ma’am. I was waiting for you to taste just in case you wanted it cooked more.”

“I trust you.” Mistress Kara picked up her food and wine. “Tidy up and eat your dinner, you be sure to tell me when you’re ready for inspection.”

“Yes Mistress Kara,” Lena nodded.

She ate in the living room on the floor with the television turned on low while Mistress Kara sat at the table. It was peaceful and quiet, save for the tiny murmur of the television and the occasional clatter of cutlery. From where she was sat she could just make out Mistress Kara sipping her wine and thumbing her phone. In turn, she knew Mistress Kara could see her too. It was familiar and distant, all at once. Lena felt part of the furniture. Lena felt… home.

“Mistress Kara,” Lena cleared her throat after she put her own plate in the sink. “Would you like me to clean the table before inspection?”

“No, a few plates can wait until morning. Leave everything to soak.” Mistress Kara got up from the table and moved to the sofa in the living room. “Present yourself.” She beckoned and pointed at the rug.

Lena did as she was told and followed the directions obediently. Same as always, she squared her arms, stood straight, inhaled and stared at Mistress Kara’s feet.

“Stunning,” Mistress Kara whispered and glided fingers over her skin. “Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress Kara, I am,” Lena whispered with the faintest of smiles.

“Tell me you’re beautiful.”

“I’m beautiful, Mistress Kara.”

“Tell me you deserve to be cherished.”

Lena hesitated and felt uncomfortable, but after she gathered herself, she managed to force the words out. “I deserve to be cherished, Mistress Kara,” she lied.

Slaves did not inherently deserve anything. Whether a slave was cherished or not, that was the whim of its Mistress. A slave existed to serve and be owned, and that was that.

Fingers gently ghosted over her stiffened nipples, her collarbones, tilting her every which way, turning her around, grazing idly across a few bruises on her bottom. Mistress Kara seemed to linger there, pleased with her work. There was a new thing that Lena had been instructed to wear in and outside of Mistress Kara’s presence, a thing to which Mistress Kara possessed the key from Monday through til Friday night. She wasted no time admiring it with the same careful tenderness she offered the ribbon.

“So pretty when you’re locked up safe and tight, I would just hate the thought of anyone touching what belongs to me...” Mistress Kara drew a tight inhale and grabbed her by the chastity belt. “Does it make you feel close to me, slave?”

Lena closed her eyes. “All of the time, Mistress Kara,” she purled.

“Does it make you desperate and wet?”

“All of the time, Mistress Kara.”

“And is it my touch you crave for?”

“Nobody else’s.” Lena severely shook her head. “Only your touch, your hand, your body, Mistress Kara. I crave only that.” She felt the key click and unlock the back padlock as though she had given a correct answer.

“Good. That’s very, very good,” Mistress Kara reassured with honey-like sweetness in her voice. “Lie on the rug and spread your legs and show me how much you’ve missed touching your cunt. You’re going to be my entertainment tonight, pretty girl. I like how whorish and desperate you are on Friday nights...”

If ever Lena needed to be told to do something twice, tonight was not that night. She did as she was instructed, and when she spread her thighs and closed her eyes, her spine nestling into the soft faux-fur rug, she felt as though she were breaking some kind of cardinal rule. Lena was not thinking of Mistress Kara’s entertainment or satisfaction, her fingers pushed through her soft wet folds, over her tiny responsive clit, gliding every which way over the little toy between her legs she had been permitted to play with, and all of it was selfish and precise for her own pleasure. She stifled and failed to hold back a deep, lustful whimper.

“No, not quite like that. I don’t like that.” Mistress Kara craned over and positioned Lena’s hand to her satisfaction. “I want you to push two fingers inside of yourself and tell me in excruciating detail how good it feels.”

“Yes Mistress Kara,” Lena whispered instantly and did not open her eyes.

When she pushed inside she curled her fingers deep into the spot that made her toes curl. She whimpered, explaining every little detail between tiny embarrassed huffs for air. The soft ridges, how smooth and wet her walls felt, the way they flexed and tightened when she curled and thrusted her fingers a little. It felt tighter than it had the last time she had masturbated. Lena mentioned it, how swollen her cunt was, how it clung to and squeezed her fingers. She reached down with her other hand and stroked her clitoris. Lena heard a guttural low moan erupt… but it was not her own.

“Please, Mistress Kara,” Lena lost herself and asked for the one thing a slave should hold herself to never begging its Mistress for. “I want you to touch me.” After seven months, she finally failed in her mission.

“How do you want me to touch you, pretty girl?”

“I want you… I want you to do the thing.”

“The thing-thing?”

“The thing.”

“Careful what you wish for…” Mistress Kara sunk forward between her thighs and drew teeth along her collarbone. “Are you going to take my whole fist and try to make me stop, pet?”

Lena nodded and lost the ability to speak altogether. Mistress Kara was pressed against her body, hips shoved between her legs, kissing along the length of her jawline. It was the most intimate she felt they had ever been, and Lena knew well and good that looks could be deceiving. She imagined that Mistress Kara had something devilish planned.

“Do you think you deserve my attention, Lena?”

“No Mistress Kara.”

“No?” Mistress Kara seemed taken aback.

“A slave doesn’t earn or deserve,” Lena panted and snapped her eyes open as Mistress Kara pushed two fingers inside of her cunt. “If a Mistress touches her slave it is only because she gives it freely. A slave always takes what her Mistress gives, gratefully, and never assumes its for her own pleasure,” Lena moaned and felt the god between her legs curl hard into her g-spot.

“You certainly never forget yourself, pretty girl.” Mistress Kara laughed, but it wasn’t a mocking noise, neither sinister or sadistic. She laughed like smooth honey. She laughed as though she were pleased, and perhaps a little bit sad. “What do you think about when you touch yourself, slave?” 

“You, Mistress Kara,” Lena wept and didn’t know where to look.

Mistress Kara pushed a third finger inside of her slick tight cunt. She twisted it in, forced the wet flexing hole at her fingers to stretch and obey. It took the air out of Lena’s lungs instantly, and before her body could betray her with movements she had not been instructed or permitted to do, Mistress Kara canted and shoved her thigh backwards until her knee was pressed to her chest. She laid down over the other one, rendering her little slave immobile and exposed. Lena whimpered and felt fingers twist and thrust inside her dripping cunt.

“What is it specifically you think about, slave?” Mistress Kara whispered into the crook of her neck.

“I touch myself thinking about you collaring me and being my Mistress, Ma’am.” Lena panted and begged all the Gods she didn’t believe in that Mistress Kara would let her cum, or at the very least turn a blind eye if one happened accidentally.

“Am I not already your Mistress, pretty girl?”

“You’re a Mistress. I mean I think about you being… _my_ Mistress. It would be redundant to use your first name anymore…”

“No more Mistress Kara, huh? You would finally just call me Mistress?” Mistress Kara nipped her ear and pressed her palm against Lena’s throbbing clit. “That’s really what gets your cunt so sloppy and wet? Procedure and protocol?”

“Always procedure and protocol, Mistress Kara.”

It wasn’t a lie. Lena loved the order of it, the symbolism, the inability for things to be misconstrued when titular protocol was properly applied. The thought of calling Mistress Kara simply… _Mistress._ It denoted something special, it denoted that they belonged to one another and Mistress’s first name was no longer necessary.

A fourth finger began to twist and push against her cunt.

“Oh fuck!” Lena hissed and fought against the body pinning her down.

“You can fight, pretty girl.” Mistress Kara was utterly calm. “You can say no, you can cry, you can play your silly little game and entertain me with it. You just be sure to say red if it gets too much…” Mistress Kara made four fingers fit inside her cunt.

“No!” Lena whimpered and felt her body instinctively fight against it. “No, no, no more, please Mistress Kara,” she gasped and clenched her fists into the rug. “No more, please don’t fist me—”

Mistress Kara thrusted her fingers almost in an up and down motion rather than penetrate forwards and backwards, it left Lena’s body curling, her tummy tightening, her teeth gritted against one another as Mistress Kara focused all the pressure from her fingers into her g-spot. It hurt. It hurt in a way that wasn’t unpleasant. It hurt as though she were stuffed and full, aching and yet wanting, suffering in only the most deliciously calculated ways. _No, no, please don’t_. She mumbled it to Mistress Kara, whimpered it, stuttered it out between her gasps as her thigh was forced back harder. 

Lena wanted it to never stop. Lena wanted Mistress Kara to bring a reckoning down upon her and help join together the dots of her desires. Slaves only got what they wanted when they begged for the contrary, Lena had learned that the hard way around. Her pleas for mercy were affirmations and thank-yous, and Mistress Kara knew as much.

“Your filthy fucking cunt is dripping down my hand, slut,” Mistress Kara kissed and nibbled her neck. “You can cry. I know it hurts, I know it makes you feel fuller than you’ve ever felt before, it’s just mind over matter.” She hummed sweetly, but her fingers did violently delightful things.

“I can’t. I can’t take it all, it won’t fit,” Lena cried and pushed at her mistress uselessly. “Please no, please no more.”

“You can and you will. It’s mind over matter...” Mistress Kara reassured and twisted her fingers slightly, knuckles pressing and rubbing so hard it was felt in her asshole too. “I don’t mind and you don’t matter,” she whispered and kissed her jaw.

“Yes Mistress Kara,” Lena stuttered and wrenched her eyes open.

Mistress Kara didn’t look venomous or wild in the throws of violence. She peered down with a loving expression, calm and gentle, her lips pushing up into the faintest of glittering smiles. Lena craved to reach up and touch her cheeks, move her blonde hair, grab her hard and not let go for a single second. She would never dream of doing such a thing without invitation. She was beneath a goddess, being used and fucked because that is what gods did with their spoil of slaves. Lena trembled, her cunt hurting and wanting more than it could take.

“You think yourself fragile but you’re wrong, little girl.” Mistress Kara dipped down and kissed a stinging tear off of her cheek. “You’re such a strong little thing, look at the way you just take, and take, and take…” Mistress Kara’s thumb nudged at her entrance.

“No—” Lena’s cunt clenched down and would not stretch any further.

“Don’t fight me, Lena,” Mistress Kara darkened and growled against her open mouth. “You won’t like where it lands you…”

“It won’t fit,” Lena whimpered and felt knuckles press against her tightest neck of muscle to no avail; privately, she wanted Mistress Kara to force it in anyway. “I don’t think I can—”

“When you think, you assume.” A hand found her throat and squeezed, tight. “And what does assume make out of you and me?”

Lena gasped for a breath her lungs were incapable of accepting, but she wasn’t scared, there was no fear, she was beneath Mistress Kara, receiving everything she had ever whorishly begged for. The palm at her windpipe did not crush or clench in anger, Mistress Kara simply took her as though she were an unruly little wild animal to be made tame. She kissed her tears, nibbled her bottom lip, and pushed and pressed her thumb back and forth until Lena’s body finally began to betray her.

“Good girl!” Mistress Kara crooned down as her knuckles pressed and passed her opening. “Such a good, good, good little girl. That’s it, just relax, there we go…” She pushed her fist all the way in. “You did it, princess, just breathe, you’ve got it.”

Something Lena never even knew was fractured began to completely shatter inside of herself. That name… it echoed around her skull until the entire world was drowned out and made to go away. _Good girl_. Mistress Kara had never called her that before. In fact, nobody had ever called her a good girl before. Slaves… slaves were not supposed to be good girls. Slaves merely did as instructed, to the best of their abilities, and to be good was the only acceptable state. It was not a thing to be commended and rewarded. Yet, Lena’s entire world stopped on the single utterance. It felt like she had just seen the world in colour for the first time and she didn’t want it to go away.

“Lena?” Mistress Kara whispered gently, suddenly stilling as though she thought something might be wrong. 

“Please don’t stop,” Lena whimpered and finally said what she really meant for the first time in years. “I… I want this, Mistress Kara. I want you. I want you to do what you just did, please.” She felt too embarrassed and uncertain of herself to be specific. “Please? I won’t—I won’t ask for anything else, just please can I have this?” Her eyes grew wide and tears were blinked away forcefully.

“Say what you mean so there can be no mistakes,” Mistress Kara uttered calmly and smoothed jet black hair back, her fingers pushing and scritching and smoothing in motions while Lena gathered herself beneath her. “What is it that you want for yourself, Lena?”

“I want to be told I’m a good girl while you…” Lena stuttered and glanced down to the wrist hilted between her legs. It renewed her arousal all over again, made her whimper and weaken in the best way possible. “I want you to make my cunt ache and tell me that I’m a good girl.”

“Listen to me,” Mistress Kara hushed and twisted inside of her cunt. “You are my good girl, you should _know_ how good you are, you just breathe and let me unravel you…” Mistress Kara pulled and pressed her fist with tiny pulsing movements. “I am very pleased with you, pretty girl.”

“Thank you Mistress Kara,” Lena couldn’t stifle herself, gasping and clinging and holding the solid biceps over her in inappropriate, unmeasured ways that she should know better about. “Please, please don’t stop. I’ll be a good girl, I promise.”

“You’re always a good girl,” Mistress Kara cooed almost, her shoulder propping Lena’s thigh while her fingers moved down and rubbed her clit. “Does my fist make you feel too full, pretty girl?”

“Yes Mistress Kara,” Lena exhaled and nodded. “But I… I want it. Please, don’t stop, _please_.”

“Good,” Mistress Kara whispered. “You’re sure you don’t want me to stop?”

“Yes, Mistress Kara.” Lena whimpered and trembled.

“Say it properly.”

“I don’t want you to stop, Ma’am.” Lena nodded frantically. “I want you inside of me.”

“Good,” Mistress Kara replied again, her smile beaming. “And do you think you deserve to orgasm, pretty girl?”

Lena opened her eyes and stalled completely. 

She knew what answer she was supposed to give. Andrea had drilled it into her from the very beginning. A slave’s pleasure is inconsequential to even the slave itself. A slave doesn’t cum at its Mistress’s hand, much less ask for it, much less think itself _worthy_ of it. A slave knows its place. A slave does not have wants. A slave exists to serve. A slave is not a person. A slave has no limits. These notions careened so fast that they shattered into one another and finally broke. Lena… she finally understood. Lena had finally learned the last lesson Mistress Kara had to teach.

Mistress Kara wanted her to have wants. Mistress Kara wanted her to ask for things, have needs, and be a person. This was what the last seven months had been about, Lena realised. She remembered every near encounter they had before, how Mistress would always touch her, rub her, exhale filthy things against her ear, and then finally pull away when Lena said those fateful words she always said. A slave does not deserve. A slave does not want. A slave does not have limits. Lena… she thought the denial was merely a confirmation of the fact.

Mistress Kara had simply been training her towards this moment.

“I deserve to cum,” Lena stuttered and cried. “I’ve been a good girl and I deserve to cum, Mistress Kara.”

Mistress Kara’s eyes suddenly changed. It was as though she had seen a ghost. She smiled, really smiled, her face pressing down and kissing Lena so hard that her heart skipped and jumped and wobbled and… flourished.

“Say it again,” Mistress Kara whispered. “If you want it, you say it again.”

“I deserve to cum,” Lena stuttered nervously. “I deserve good things.”

“You do deserve good things, pretty girl.” Mistress Kara laughed gently, rubbed her clit, fisted her slowly and kissed the side of her neck. “You’re a good girl, you’re my good girl. I’m so proud of you, just breathe and give me a little show…”

Lena moaned and crashed forward. She wrapped her arms around Mistress Kara’s neck, her heart punching into Mistress Kara’s own, her face pressed into her throat, crying and cumming harder than she had ever done before while her hips bucked and trembled. Mistress Kara twisted her fist against her spot, used her other hand to grab and hold the small of Lena’s back. She was still so sturdy, still the same thing she had always been, but she was being gentle and generous and Lena… she felt as though she deserved none of it and yet finally understood that, in fact, she did.

“Good girl,” Mistress Kara whispered and brought her down slowly. “There’s my good girl,” she hushed and held her tight.

“I’m.” Lena suddenly snapped back to reality as though she had done something terribly wrong. “Mistress Kara, I’m. I’m so sorry. A slave shouldn’t. A slave doesn’t speak to its Mistress—” She tried to pull away.

“Enough!” Mistress Kara grabbed her jaw. “Look at me. Look at me, Lena. Enough is enough. We’re not doing this anymore,” she whispered and held her stare. “I will not abide by that anymore, Lena. Do you understand me?”

“I don’t understand, Mistress Kara?”

Mistress Kara exhaled and stroked her cheek, cupped her jaw and pushed forward to kiss her. Lena put up no resistance, she kissed Mistress Kara back and smiled slightly as a forehead pressed into her own and rested there.

“I want to collar you, Lena. I want to be your Mistress, I want to own you, and I want you to submit to me, I want to punish you when you’re bad and cherish you when you’re good.” She produced a slender turquoise jewellery box from her pocket. “No more telling me what and who a slave is supposed to be. You will show deference and perform service, yes, but I expect you to be human too. I expect you to share my bed and let me be gentle when I want to be gentle. I expect you to not refer to yourself as it anymore, Lena.”

“I can give you that, Ma’am.” Lena suddenly got a strange feeling that perhaps, in some small way, she had shackled her mistress to notions of protocol that neither of them really wanted in the first place. “I can—” Lena stopped suddenly and closed her eyes. “I want that, Mistress Kara. I want that for myself.”

“Good girl,” Mistress Kara whispered. “You wish to wear my collar and be my cherished little pet?”

Lena closed her eyes and felt a swell in her chest.

“I want that please, _Mistress_.”

[Find me on my emotional kinky hoe shit here and read more of the dirt plus exclusive dirt that I don't post anywhere else](http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


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